Haymitch's Last Stand
by jrwilson
Summary: A replay of the Hunger Games from Haymitch Abernathy's perspective sprinkled with flashbacks from Haymitch's past.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Small Defiances**

It had been a dry week as Haymitch had been saving his small supply of scotch for the day of the reaping. He sighed in pleasure as he let the sip of scotch roll across his tongue and slide down throat. His gut warmed as it hit him. The first sip was slow and steady, but his control slipped as he downed the rest of bottle, and then the second and third. He wobbled to his wardrobe and pulled out a ratty suit and haphazardly dressed himself. Almost time. Almost time for the reaping. He wondered if that Effie Trinket woman would still be the escort, or if she would have moved on to a better district, as she had seemed to want in previous years. He didn't like her, but couldn't help but be amused at how much she seemed to hate him.

The victor's village was a lonely place in district twelve, and as Haymitch exited his house he couldn't help but wonder if he was destined to live in this godforsaken silent place forever. He made his way to the heavily lit stage just in time. All of the district children were grouped in little huddles, like lambs for the slaughter. His vision blurred as he lurched onto the stage and threw himself into Effie's unwilling arms. She gasped as Haymitch managed to pull her pink wig askew. He suppressed a giggle and tried to make his way towards his place near the mayor, but his sense of direction was off and he fell off the stage. He heard himself screaming at one of the cameras to stop filming him, but the cameras didn't listen and stayed trained on him. He picked himself off of the ground and found his place by Mayor Undersee.

"Ladies first," Effie said into the microphone and drew a small folded square from the glass bowl. "And our contestant is - Primrose Everdeen."

The crowd was silent, and Haymitch watched a small blond girl awkwardly approach the stage. She was so little. Haymitch wondered if she would die first. Poor little thing. No chance at all.

There seemed to be some commotion in the crowd and a taller girl pulled the little girl behind her and screamed out, "I volunteer."

Haymitch watched Effie's features distort in confusion. He snorted. District twelve had never had a volunteer. He wondered if Effie even new the proper protocol for such a situation. After some debate, Mayor Undersee insisted that they just let the new girl on the stage. Volunteers were allowed afterall.

"And what is your name?" Effie asked, her eyes never leaving the cameras.

"Katniss. Katniss Everdeen."

"Well, I would bet anything that you volunteered for your little sister. Don't want to let her have all of the glory, huh."

The girl stayed silent, her eyes wide. Haymitch imagined the girl hadn't quite registered what had happened. At least she looked like she would last a little longer than the little girl, but the longer they lasted the more Haymitch had to work at keeping them alive, and he hated futile gestures. The little girl would have been better; at least her death would have been quicker.

The boy who joined her on stage was named Peeta Malarch. Haymitch recognized him - he was the baker's son. No one volunteered to take his place.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Ride to the Capitol**

"And let the odds be ever in your favor," Effie sang into the microphone

Through half closed eyes, Haymitch watched the stunned tributes being led from the stage to the justice building. The cameras were off him again, and he stumbled back to his house in the victor's village. In the early days, a cameraman would follow him back to his house and beleaguer him with questions about the new tributes. But, Haymitch had put a stop to that, he thought with a smile. He didn't even notice the stench of rotted food or the piles of disorderly garbage placed in careful mounds around the house anymore. Once the capitol realized that visiting his home would only bring disturbing grumbles to the viewers, they left him alone. He packed a small bag of clothes and the half bottle of scotch that represented the end of his liqueur supply into a small duffle bag. As he started to leave a sharp trilling interrupted him. He looked around in confusion, before realizing that the noise was the telephone.

"Haymitch Abernathy is not at your disposal," he answered.

"Haymitch, good, you haven't left yet."

"Finnick?"

"Of course. Does anyone else ever call you? Look, I've scheduled an event for tomorrow night, some of the other mentors are going meet and discuss some issues. Joana is going to..."

"Not interested." Haymitch slammed the phone down.

Haymitch walked the short distance to the train station, navigating through the swarm of reporters. He was grateful that he wasn't the main attraction this year. The doors of the train opened in response to his glare.

"Haymitch?" A voice asked. Haymitch turned around and found him staring into the male tributes eyes.

"Uh huh." He grunted.

"Can we talk now? There is so much we need to discuss."

"Not now, kid. I'm going to take a nap."

"But," the boy's voice trailed off as Haymitch walked passed him into the tribute car and collapsed into bed, secretly grateful for the clean sheets.

Haymitch didn't sleep long before the movement of the train shook him awake. He was never able to sleep in the train once it started moving unless he was very very drunk. He finished off the flask of scotch before deciding it was time for supper.

" ... Haymitch may well be the difference between your life and your death." Effie hissed as Haymitch staggered into the dining cabin.

"I missed supper?" He noticed something about the girl, something unexpected. It was the glimmering gold pin. He knew that pin, he thought. And right then - before he could figure out where he had seen the pin before - he vomited and fell into oblivion, causing Effie to leave in a huff.

" I tripped?" Haymitch asked. "Smells bad." Haymitch tried and failed to right himself.

The boy and girl tribute grabbed him from either side and forced him back to his feet. They led him back to his room, and he was grateful for their help, because he knew he wouldn't have made it on his own, and would likely have spent the night on the floor of the dining cabin covered in vomit.

The tributes talked in hushed voices, and the girl finally left his room. The boy tribute helped him pull off his clothes and dunked him into the porcelain tub.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Maysilee**

Haymitch woke entwined in satin sheets. His head pounded against his skull in awful repetitive thumps. The room smelled of peaches and lavender. This was not his house. The memory of the previous day swam hazily into being. He could feel the awful thrumming of the wheels against the tracks. Of course, he was on the train. There was something he was supposed to remember. Something important. He buried his head in his hands. Think Haymitch, think. Thinking was the only thing he'd ever been good at. His eyes closed tight and he saw it - the flashing gold pin - Masilee's pin. His heart, which he had so carefully hardened against the world, broke again. Where had the girl tribute gotten it? Shouldn't it have been buried with Masilee? He remembered giving it to her in secret. He had loved her even before the games. But, he was born in the seam, and she was a town girl. It was an impossible thing. He shouldn't have loved her. He remembered the day he signed up for tesserae.

_Haymitch had to sign up for tesserae at twelve, for himself and his father. He was lucky it was only for the two of them, he had friends in school who needed tesserae for brothers and sisters. They had more to fear. But still he hated that he forced into this situation. He had shown up at the town center too early. He wanted to get it over with before daylight breached his senses. He waited alone, shivering in his thin coat._

"_What are you doing?" A voice hissed at him._

_He looked around, and saw a girl he knew vaguely from school. "Maysilee?" he asked._

"_Don't pretend you don't know I am."_

"_Why are you out here? It's not even daylight," he asked her._

"_I saw you from my window." She pointed to a well constructed house a few meters away. It looked nothing like the hovel Haymitch called home in the seam. "Are you signing up for tesserae?"_

_He sighed. Maysilee hung out with the mean gossipy town girls. He hated them all. If she knew what he was doing, his entire class would know by morning._

"_You know I am."_

_Her lips twitched, and he could see her mind turning. Was she thinking about how fun it would be to tell her friends about his hardship? God, how he hated her in her expensive dress, and silk slippers. She was so safe._

"_If you're signing up, so am I." _

"_What! That's crazy."_

"_I don't think so. I'm twelve. No one can stop me." She placed her small arm through his and whispered in his ear. "Small defiances, Haymitch. It's all we have."_

"_Your parents..."_

"_They'll kill me." She started to laugh, a pretty trilling sound. Against all of his best intentions, he fell in love with her in that one shining moment._


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **I changed the title to 'Haymitch's Last Stand'. To my embarassment I found out that my previous title was already taken - my apologies to boreduntilnoend. Thank you to Keep going for the review.

**Chapter 4: A Treaty of Sorts**

Haymitch filled his empty flask with a clear liqueur that flowed artfully from a seven-tiered fountain.

"Would you like anything to drink sir?" An attendant asked him as he sat down.

He considered. He was going to have to try to sober up if he was going to try to help the girl with Maysilee's pin. But he couldn't do it cold turkey. Cutting the alcohol would be start. "Cranberry juice," he asked with a slow smile.

The boy tribute was the first to join him. The boy's smile flashed too wide. "How are you this morning? Feeling better I hope."

Haymitch never enjoyed false gestures of friendship, but there was something sincere beneath the lie. Haymitch would have to pick apart this boy's actions at some later point. He poured just a bit of the white liqueur into the juice and sipped thoughtfully. "Much better," he said.

"I could get you something to eat from the buffet?" The boy asked, clearly eager to be helpful.

"No thanks kid. I'm drinking my breakfast this morning."

"Do you really think that's wise?"

Haymitch rolled back in his seat. "I try to avoid being wise these days."

"Could you tell me what we'll need to do to make getting sponsors easier?"

At that point the girl burst into the room. When her gaze fell on Haymitch, rage filled her eyes. She sat down next to him and glared at him.

"So you're supposed to give us advice?" She spat.

"Here's some advice: Stay alive." He retorted.

"That's very funny." The boy said as he rolled his eyes, and clearly trying to share a moment of exasperation with the girl. Haymitch didn't like that look. There was a bond between the two kids that Haymitch didn't understand. He decided without really thinking about it to pull a thread in the fabric of the moment, and see if he could unravel their relationship.

Haymitch punched Peeta in the mouth splitting his lip.

The girl immediately drove a knife between his fingers, and pierced him with a look of open hostility.

"What's this? Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?" He laughed. This was better then he could have ever hoped for.

The boy pulled some ice out of the fountain, and started to raise the ice to his moth.

"No. Let the bruise show. They'll think you got into a fight with one of the other tributes."

"Isn't that illegal?" The girl asked.

"Only if you get caught, sweetheart. Can you hit anything with that knife besides the table?"

She yanked the knife out the table and then threw it across the table into a seam between two panels. Every movement of hers was deft and intentional. He looked at her carefully and recognized his own grey seam eyes. He sighed. He had no idea how she had gotten the pin, and he had no idea if he could keep her alive. But he would try.

"Stand over here. Both of you." He indicated the middle of the room, and examined them both carefully. "You're both fit and strong enough," he commented. "Not entirely hopeless. I'll offer you a deal. I'll sober up enough to help you, but you'll have to do exactly what I say." They boy's eyes were the guileless blue of a sheltered town boy. These two shouldn't be friends. Just like he wasn't meant to be friends with Maysilee.

They both paused, apparently considering their options. If they were smart they would realize that had no options. It was Haymitch Abernathy or a games execution. Hell, even if they picked him, it would still probably end in a games execution.

The tributes looked at each other, silently communicating in a language unknown to Haymitch. Again, he told himself, he would need to figure out how these two were connected, and how he could use their connection to his advantage.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: The World is Unfair**

"So help us. When we get to the Arena, what's the best strategy for someone who ..." the girl started.

"Hold your horses, sweetheart - one thing at a time. In a few minutes we'll be pulling into the station, and your stylists are going to take over. Don't question them. No matter what they do to you, let them. Don't resist," Haymitch insisted.

"But..." The girl squeaked.

"No buts. Don't resist," Haymitch demanded. He grabbed his bottle of liquor and left them.

Haymitch walked back to his room, clutching the bottle hard in his hand. Back in his room, Haymitch hid in the shower stall. He hated the Capitol with his whole soul and didn't want to see the crowd that would invariably be clinging to sight of the train - those plastic people, walking around with empty heads and black hearts - god how he hated them.

Time passed and although Haymitch was now certain that the crowd had ebbed, he still didn't move.

"They never let you go back, you know," an amused voice said as an attractive man entered the bathroom.

Haymitch sighed. "Finnick."

"Another year passes, and we're back here again."

"You have a choice."

"And you don't. I know." Finnick pulled Haymitch out of the shower. "So what are your tributes like this year. I hope for your sake that they're stronger than last year."

"I almost like it better when they die quick. I get less attached."

"Don't say that. C'mon, there's someone I want to introduce you to - Plutarch Heavensbee. He's a gamemaker."

"I hate gamemakers, even more than I hate everyone else."

"You'll like him. I promise."

"I doubt it. My girl tribute, I think she's something special. She reminds me of someone I knew once."

Finnick placed an arm around Haymitch. "Tell me about her."

_At school the next day, Haymitch looked for Maysilee. She wasn't there. Would she think they were friends now? He didn't want to be friends with her. He didn't want to be in love with her. It was ridiculous that he was even thinking about her at all. Stupidity shouldn't be rewarded. And what she had done was more than stupid. Haymitch didn't want to have any friends at all, and he certainly had no desire to enter into her circle of vapid girls. He was a loner, and he liked it that way, he thought from his seat in the back of the classroom. Maysilee usually spent the moments before class sitting with the other girls in the front talking and laughing, but she wasn't there. Her sister and their friend Joanne, were sitting silently in a corner. It was unusual for them to be so quiet. What exactly had Maysilee's parents done to punish her? It couldn't be that bad. They were town people - they weren't Seam. Twenty minutes into a lecture on ash properties, Maysilee entered the room. Her lip was split wide open, and barely healed. Her eyes were downcast. Their teacher motioned for her to take her seat. Clearly he had no intention of questioning her. Her parents would just get away with it. Seam kids often showed up with unexplained bruises, but town families were supposed to be better. Damn it._

"_Are you paying attention, Haymitch?"_

_No, he thought._

"_I asked you to name two main components of fly ash."_

"_Silicon Dioxide and Calcium Oxide. Would you like a list of common trace constituents," Haymitch retorted without thinking._

_Their teacher grimaced. "I take it you've read the chapter ahead of time."_

_The whole book, Haymitch thought to himself grimly. _


End file.
